


Returning

by Forever_Shipping_Johnlock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description of Corpses, Like really slow, M/M, PTSD Sherlock, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock Being an Idiot, Slow Build, Well almost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:01:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Shipping_Johnlock/pseuds/Forever_Shipping_Johnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sherlock had never expected that he would need anyone in his life. After all, he hadn't since he was small. He had never needed Mummy’s coddling or Mycroft’s advice (or so he continued to tell himself) so it came as a complete surprise that he had come to need John Watson in a way that was both foreign and terrifying to him. This revelation came with the equally astounding realization the he may even have been lonely before meeting John. Who had been there to make sure he ate regularly? Who had been there to praise him for every new and brilliant deduction? who had been the strong, steady presence at his side through any danger he may face? Before John there was nobody, just as there had been for the dreadfully long time he had been away from Baker Street. The absence of all of John’s brilliant qualities had never been so haunting."</p><p>Or, in other words, Sherlock is an idiot, John is John and everyone else barely even exists.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there :)
> 
> Firstly, Thank you for clicking on this and deciding to read it, you're already my favourite!
> 
> Secondly, this is the first time I have ever written anything.. like ever.. so it may be a bit rough at times but I hope you'll stick by it as I plan to edit it heavily when I'm done anyway
> 
> Finally, I am open to suggestions and tips on how to fix it/make it better so feel free to leave some (hopefully in a nice constructive comment and not a rude/unhelpful one)
> 
> Enjoy xoxox

Sherlock had never expected that he would need anyone in his life. After all, he hadn't since he was small. He had never needed Mummy’s coddling or Mycroft’s advice (or so he continued to tell himself) so it came as a complete surprise that he had come to need John Watson in a way that was both foreign and terrifying to him. This revelation came with the equally astounding realization the he may even have been lonely before meeting John. Who had been there to make sure he ate regularly? Who had been there to praise him for every new and brilliant deduction? who had been the strong, steady presence at his side through any danger he may face? Before John there was nobody, just as there had been for the dreadfully long time he had been away from Baker Street. The absence of all of John’s brilliant qualities had never been so haunting.

This realization hit Sherlock on the night of his return back to London after experiencing the most difficult thing he had been through in the last two years, seeing John again. He hadn't taken any time to plan out his return, figuring that John would just be there to receive him and things would go back to how they always were. However, that is decidedly not how things turned out. Sherlock had already tried to delete the memory from his mind palace but he didn't think that the hurt and anger in John’s eyes accompanied by the words “I want nothing to do with you from now on” would ever be something that he would forget.

It was now the fourth day he had spent back in London, and the past three days had passed with nothing but chain smoking and lying on the sofa. He couldn't bring himself to do anything else. He didn't want to start working again, not that he could even if the desire was there (Mycroft had not yet handled the release of any information about Sherlock’s return and Lestrade didn't know) and he didn't have any desire to pick up his violin. Things had not been this bad since before he had met John. 

As he lay there on the sofa, the unwelcome memory of his return to John played over in his thoughts once again, despite his best efforts to stop it. 

Sherlock had walked up to the address of the new flat that John currently rented and simply rung the doorbell. Of course he had forgotten that John would have had to take up working again in Sherlock’s absence, so nobody was home. It was not matter, Sherlock had just picked the lock and resigned himself to waiting (and deducing new things about John’s life from his flat) for John to return. It seemed that John hadn't taken another roommate (good) as there was no sign of another resident anywhere in the flat. That also meant no new relationship then, at least not a serious one (also good, better than good even). The flat was mostly bare, nothing but the necessary possessions brought with him from Baker Street and nothing decorative to be found anywhere. That was odd, this hardly looked like a place that John would call home. Perhaps, if this was any indication of how John felt about his flat, he would be easily persuaded to move back to Baker Street (perfect).

Sherlock had to wait a total of 20 minutes after his arrival at Johns new residence, before he heard the key in the door. He had been slightly nervous before but as soon as he heard the key turn and the familiar yet uneven gait (his limp had returned then) a surge of extra adrenaline shot through him .

John walked around the corner and hung his coat up, putting his cane to rest against the wall, before turning to face the side of the small living room where Sherlock was standing. As soon as he saw the figure in his living room, John froze, his face contorted in what could only be utter disbelief. 

Sherlock took advantage of this moment of silence to take in John’s appearance. He looked very much the same as before Sherlock had left, and the sight of John, so achingly familiar, filled Sherlock with a new type of warmth that he couldn't quite identify. John stood before him in a beige jumper and jeans, his face slightly tired and aged (as much as was to be expected in two years) and looking so desperately confused that Sherlock thought it might be time to actually say something. 

“Hello John”

This seemed to bring some life back into John. 

“Sh-Sherlock” He returned, slowly and hesitantly as if saying his name might make the man disappear entirely “you’re here, you’re alive that’s—”

“Impossible?” Sherlock questioned “don’t be absurd john, when you eliminate the impossible whatever remains” he trailed off, gesturing to himself (as if to indicate that he was in fact, real) and smiling slightly.

John followed the gesture with his eyes and continued to stare for a few seconds before the realization of what this meant dawned on him, and his expression changed from one of awe to one of complete rage faster than Sherlock had ever seen.

“You’re alive Sherlock and you let me think you were dead for two whole years. You let me mourn the loss of my best— of you, and now you waltz in here like you bloody well own the place and expect me to be okay with it?” He asked incredulously, his voice raising with each passing word.

Sherlock had nothing to say to that, still in slight shock at the sudden atmospheric change in the room.

“How could you do this” John said slowly, in a tone he reserved only for the most despicable criminals they had faced together “I want an explanation right now Sherlock, and it better be a damn good one or I may end up doing something that will actually kill you this time”

“It had to be done” Sherlock began matter-of-factly. Clearly John was angry but he was sure that if he could explain the situation to John, he would see the logic in what Sherlock had done and all of this unnecessary rage would dissipate. 

However, John cut in before Sherlock could continue his speech.

“You’re telling me that you needed to make me stand at the bottom of that building and watch you” he paused taking a deep breath “watch you do that, and then leave for two whole years while I was left to grieve? And I did Sherlock, I grieved your loss. My god you selfish bastard, I spent two years feeling the guiltiest I have ever felt and now you turn up here, like this, and act as if it’s nothing” John spat, and Sherlock could feel the hurt and anger in those words.

“John I—” Sherlock tried to continue, but once again John interrupted.

“No Sherlock, just get out of my flat.” John said, his voice cold. Then came the words that Sherlock had been wholly unprepared to ever hear John say “I want nothing to do with you from now on.”

Normally Sherlock would have just told John that he was being ridiculous and then explained why until he saw reason, but this shocked Sherlock to the point of being speechless. So when John walked to the door and opened it, an invitation for Sherlock to do as he had asked and leave, Sherlock went silently without even looking back. 

Sherlock was shaken from his rumination by Mrs. Hudson, who had stopped in to bring tea and biscuits.

“Sherlock dear, you haven’t eaten anything in ages, the wind will just blow you away one day if you keep this up” She said, genuine concern evident in her voice.

Sherlock just snorted in response, as if eating would be desirable now, of all times. 

After a bit more fussing, she went back down stairs with the promise to return and check on him later. Sherlock continued to lay on the sofa, it was late evening by now but he refused to let himself sleep (the dreams were about the same as the memories that took him while awake, with the addition of some less than pleasant experiences from his time away). So instead, he lay there smoking more cigarettes, his food untouched, and considered his earlier revelations. 

After living life without John for two whole years, he now knew that he didn't see the value in it without John at his side. He really did need him, and seeing John after so long had brought attention to his change in attitude towards the man. John had become such a part of him and his life that he knew that he couldn't have the version of home he had been wishing for these past two years, without him. However, the chances of ever having him back now were extremely slim. John was a man of his word, and no matter how angry he ever was with Sherlock before, he had always seemed to choose his words carefully, never saying anything that would be construed as permanent. The words that John had left him with that first day were nothing if not permanent and Sherlock did not see how he was going to get through the inevitably dull existence he would now have to face without John. He needed something to help him through. 

Within a minute he was off of the couch and in his coat. Leaving the house without a disguise was inadvisable, as none but a select few knew of his return, but Sherlock was beyond the point of caring. After a quick walk and a discussion with a member of his homeless network, he found himself in the middle of a nightclub with tightly packed bodies moving around him and music so loud he couldn't hear his own thoughts, it was perfect. He looked around the room and within seconds had identified the man he wanted. Twenty minutes and a fair amount of money later, Sherlock was out of the club and the tiny bag filled with white powdery substance was firmly hidden away in his coat pocket. He made it all the way home and was back on the sofa before his choice had really even dawned on him. 

He looked at the bag in front of him on the coffee table and thought of the look on John’s face should he discover what Sherlock was about to do. He could not be sure that John would even come should he call though, and John had certainly made it clear that he didn’t want to see Sherlock again. Sherlock picked up the bag and stared at it, his mind racing. What good was it to think of the opinion of someone who wanted Sherlock out of his life anyway. Sherlock opened the bag and was about to dump out its contents but then thought better of it. He sit staring at the open bag for quite some time before making his decision. He had already hurt John once (however unavoidable it was), he couldn't live with himself knowing that he had done it again. He put the bag back on the table and pulled out his phone. He had made a mistake and he needed help.


	2. Chapter 2

It was midnight when John was awakened by a text message. He was a light sleeper ever since the day of the incident (nightmares kept him semi-alert even in sleep), but his annoyance at being woken was still fairly high. He reached over to his bedside table and squinted at his phone to see that he had missed the first 3 messages that had come in. 

text back, require your assistance  
SH

John almost threw his phone down after seeing that it was Sherlock, asking for help (probably on some stupid case) after what he had put him through. If curiosity hadn't overtaken him, he may never have read the rest of the messages, but he couldn't resist.

come if convenient  
SH

if not, come anyway  
SH

John please  
SH

That threw John off a bit, it was very rare for Sherlock to use manners when he wanted something from John, but it didn't change anything. Sherlock had made a decision two years ago that had permanently changed things and he couldn't go back now. John had just put his phone back on the table and rolled over when the last text came through.

I may need to be stopped from doing something stupid. John, please  
SH

Shit, it was a danger night.

John was out of bed and getting dressed without a second thought. Sherlock may be a right bastard and John was still furious with him, but god knows he wasn’t going to let him start down this path again. John cared about Sherlock (that was the reason he couldn’t trust Sherlock enough to go back to him now, lord knows it would kill him if he disappeared again) and right now, he was needed.

John sent Sherlock a quick text before grabbing his keys and hailing a cab. 

on my way  
JW

He could almost hear the relief in the response that came almost instantaneously (because it was so unlike Sherlock to say anything like this)

thank you  
SH

 

“Sherlock”

came the panicked voice followed by the rushed footsteps on the stairs.

Sherlock had not yet moved from the couch and the bag of cocaine still lay in front of him on the table. There was no point in hiding it now, he had already asked for help and John wasn't stupid, he knew what that text had meant. 

“Sherlock are you alright?” John asked walking in the door and shutting it before walking over to stand on the other side of the table. 

He looked down at the small white bag and then back up at Sherlock. This was the part that Sherlock had been dreading slightly. He knew calling John was the right decision and the one that John would approve of the most, but he still didn't want to see the disappointment in John’s eyes when he saw the drugs and realized that Sherlock had failed him again.

However, when John looked back up at him, all that Sherlock saw was genuine concern. Relief flooded him at the thought of not having disappointed him a second time this week.

“Sherlock, i’m really glad you called me okay?” John said bending down to pick up the little bag “I know that what I said the other day was harsh but thank you for thinking of calling me before you got into this” He gestured towards Sherlock’s purchase. 

There was genuine appreciation in the way John said those words and Sherlock began to think that maybe all hope of fixing things was not lost after all. Once again he was incredibly glad to have changed his mind about the drugs and extremely grateful to have John, who evidently still seemed to care enough to come when Sherlock really needed him. 

“I’m going to go get rid of this and then we are going to have dinner, you need to eat some food” John commented passing by him to head to the bathroom and flush the contents of the bag.

Sherlock sat on the couch watching as John maneuvered around the kitchen (it didn't slip past him that John still remembered where everything was kept) making tea and toast for the both of them. Finally, John was done and they were sat at the table with a mildly uncomfortable silence hanging in the air between them. 

Sherlock was staring down at his food and decided that he really should eat something, if only to get everyone off of his back, and besides, John had used his favourite jam on the toast. 

“So do you want to tell me what got you to the point of buying drugs tonight?” John asked after swallowing a bite, there was no malice or sarcasm in the words, he was just giving Sherlock the opportunity to talk.

Despite being given the chance, Sherlock really didn't want to tell John that he had gotten into such a strop about losing him that he had seen cocaine as his only way out. So instead he changed the subject after taking a few bites of his toast.

“John, I really think you should know the reason behind my absence of two years” he started formally, but upon seeing John tense up at the change of subject he added “please just let me explain what happened.”

“Sherlock, its really early in the morning and you've just almost had a relapse, I don’t think now is the right time to talk about this, especially because I cant guarantee a positive reaction to whatever it is you have to tell me” He replied seriously, looking Sherlock straight in the eyes. 

“Just let me explain and if you are still angry with me when i’ve finished you’re free to leave, I’m in no danger now that you've gotten rid of the drugs” Sherlock answered.

John seemed to contemplate for a bit and then just nodded, so Sherlock began into his explanation, starting from the fall, and ending on the night he arrived in London and their tense first meeting. 

“So you must see that I had no choice in the matter. You, Mrs.Hudson and Lestrade would all have been killed and there was no way to assure your safety unless I compromised mine. Moriarty had it all planned out and had a network that extended half of the globe to carry out his plans once he wasn't able to anymore. If any of them had even the slightest hint that I was still alive, the orders would have been given and all three of you would have been disposed of. Absolutely secrecy was of the utmost importance” Sherlock stated, finally finishing his tale.

John had been silent and tense throughout the story. He had flinched as Sherlock had described a few of the less than pleasant encounters with some of Moriarty’s networks (not in full detail of course, he needn't relive everything) but other than that, he had not uttered a word. When Sherlock was done however, John let out a long breath that he must have been holding and buried his head in his hands.

“I cant believe it Sherlock” John groaned, head still in his hands and when he looked up, there was genuine anger stretched tight on his features again.

Sherlock was confused, how could he not believe the story he was just told. It was far too intricate and detailed for Sherlock to have made it up and it was the only logical explanation for Sherlock’s two year absence. 

“If you don’t believe me then you are free to go, nobody is holding you here” Sherlock stated haughtily. He stood up to walk to the window, trying not to let John see that he was hurt by his disbelief.

“No you idiot, of course I believe you” John said, getting up to follow him “I don’t believe that I could have been such a cock to you the other night when you've just told me that you sacrificed your life for me”

Sherlock whipped around upon hearing John’s words, to see John standing in front of him with a soft expression on his face.

“I called you a selfish bastard the other day Sherlock and you've just come back from the most selfless act anyone has ever done” He spoke with genuine remorse “I am so angry at myself for saying such god awful things to you, I am so sorry”

Sherlock cleared his throat, unsure of how to handle the complicated emotional situation in front of him “yes well, its alright.” 

What came next was so unexpected that it threw Sherlock off completely. John stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sherlock in a hug, and Sherlock in turn, froze.

“Thank you for doing all of that, risking your life for us” he paused then and let the silence hang in the air for a minute before adding “for me.” He gave Sherlock one last squeeze before backing away.

Sherlock just looked at him, still a little confused about what had just happened but there was no denying the growing warmth that he felt. 

“I think it might be best if I go back to my flat, you probably want some time away from me right now and god Sherlock, you definitely need some sleep. Those bags under your eyes are not healthy” John said, concern making itself evident on his face once again.

He gave Sherlock one last look that held something Sherlock was not sure he’d ever seen in John’s expression, and then turned to go. Couldn’t he see that leaving was the last thing that Sherlock wanted him to do? Sherlock didn't want space from John right now, he wanted him to move back in at the earliest possible opportunity, but how could he possibly tell him any of that. Sherlock figured that getting him to stay for a while was a start and most likely his best option. 

“John wait” Sherlock started, still not actually sure where this sentence was going to go “I wouldn't be opposed to you staying here for a while if you prefer, its early morning and you must be tired as well, the bedroom upstairs is still set up.” 

Sherlock felt a rush of relief when John said “you know, you’re right. Im knackered and if you really wouldn't mind I might just get some sleep.”

“Good, well I suppose I should try as well” Sherlock replied slightly awkwardly “Goodnight John”

John offered a small smile before turning to climb the stairs “Goodnight Sherlock”.


	3. Chapter 3

John woke in the morning a bit confused at his current surroundings before the memories of last night came rushing back to him. As he thought over last night (or this morning rather) he could distinctly remember hearing the violin and being woken and then soothed back to sleep by the playing quite a few times. Sherlock must not have gotten any sleep then, and John could hear that he was already up now fussing about in the kitchen. 

There was no need to dress, as john had not anticipated staying the night and therefore slept in his clothes, so he just fixed his hair a bit and made his way downstairs.

“Morning Sherlock” he said, turning the corner to walk into the kitchen.

“Good morning” Sherlock replied placing two cups of tea on the table, to John’s surprise.

“This one for me?” he asked, genuinely appreciative that Sherlock had made the effort to do this for him when before, John was just expected to make tea for the both of them

“I figured it would be appropriate to thank you for being here last night” Sherlock said a little awkwardly.

John smiled genuinely at that “You’re welcome, now sit down with your cup and I’ll get the biscuits out, I’m sure Mrs.Hudson has you stocked up”

When they were both settled, John figured he would broach the subject of Sherlock getting some sleep. He could already tell he hadn’t slept as he definitely didn’t look any better than last night and by the state of his under eyes, John guessed it had been more than a few days since he’d had a good night’s sleep. 

“Did you sleep well last night?” He asked cautiously “I thought I heard the violin at one point”

Sherlock hummed around a biscuit, not looking at John “Up thinking, I did get some sleep though.”

John knew it was a lie but decided not to push it too much. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what this was about though, and he wanted to address it.

“Sherlock you mentioned some pretty intense experiences while you were away” he started and immediately Sherlock tensed up so marginally that anyone else would have missed it “is that the reason you don’t sleep well, do you dream of what happened?” 

Sherlock avoided eye contact but answered honestly “yes, occasionally I dream of my time away and sometimes it makes it difficult to sleep, but I wont talk to a therapist about it if that’s what you’re suggesting” he added defensively.

John smiled slightly “i’m not going to make you go to a therapist but I am going to get you something to help you sleep.”

Sherlock groaned at that.

“No Sherlock, you need rest. Your body is going to give in on you any day now and you'll end up ill” he stated firmly “i’ll bring you something from the clinic after my shift today and you're going to take them so you can get at least a few hours in at a time. It doesn't have to be a long stretch if you're afraid of dreaming, but you will sleep” he finished decidedly. 

All he got in response was another noncommittal groan but he figured it was enough of an agreement to be getting on with. 

 

After breakfast John had to go back to his flat and get ready for his shift at the clinic but before he left, he had promised Sherlock he would return with his medication later that night. Sherlock was reluctant to take anything, but if the medication brought the promise of a return visit from John, he wasn't going to argue the point.

Sherlock had felt awkward after his display of vulnerability last night and even more so when John had deduced his nightmares. He didn't like appearing weak in front of John but he didn't seem to mind so much and seemingly wanted to help. Now Sherlock’s problem was trying to ask him to move back in. He hadn't been lying to John, he did get about an hour of nightmare free sleep last night and he had a suspicion that John might have helped just by being in the flat. That was not something he was going to admit to John either. 

Sherlock spent most of the day lost in thought about how to approach John about moving back in. He did also take a shower though, he felt like he should clean up a little before John returned. He didn't know why he felt the sudden urge to somewhat impress John, or at least try to appear better for him, but he was doing it none the less.

 

When John returned back from the clinic he had brought food with him. 

“Hope you still like that Chinese place down the street, i’ve brought enough for the next two days” John said carrying the bags over to the table and setting out the different cartons of food. 

When they were all settled in, that same mildly uncomfortable silence that had plagued them at breakfast was present. Sherlock decided to fill it (and simultaneously please John) by eating everything on his plate. 

“I brought you the sleeping pills” John started and Sherlock tried not to grimace “you’ll only have to take a half tonight and we can gradually increase your dose if the dreams aren’t too bad” 

“I highly doubt I actually need the pills John” Sherlock stated “You know I don’t sleep regularly to begin with”

John looked at him and smiled softly which sent a mild thrill through Sherlock (he would have to evaluate why later) “ I know you git, but this is different” he said “you’re not sleeping because it’s become unpleasant and that will continue to the point of complete physical exhaustion unless we get you a few hours here and there, these will help for that”

Sherlock didn't respond because he couldn't think of a way to tell John that just his presence would do more than the pills ever could, he was sure of it. 

After that there was more conversation to fill the rest of dinner. John asked about how many people knew of his return and Sherlock told him that so far, him, Mrs. Hudson and Molly Hooper were the only ones who were aware he was alive, apart from Mycroft. 

“So how do you plan on letting everyone else know?” john asked before taking a bite of his food “you should probably tell Lestrade, poor sod will be glad to know you're alive and thrilled to have you back to work”

“Mycroft is going to handle the press releases on my return” he stated, having finished his plate “Lestrade will most likely find out when the rest of the public does as well”

“I think you should tell him before then” John said finishing up his plate “after all, you did all of this for him too. I could go with you to tell him if you’d like”

“I suppose it would be tolerable telling him, if you went with me” Sherlock considered “I planned to have the only person that I told of my survival be you and let Mycroft do all the rest, but clearly my plan didn't go quite as expected so it would probably be best not to do this one alone as well.”

“I still cant believe how I treated you that night, I will never stop apologizing for the ignorant things I said. I didn’t mean what I said about wanting nothing to do with you and I hope you know that” John replied softly.

“Don’t be ridiculous John, you couldn't have known my reasoning for disappearing and you reacted as i’m sure any rational person would have” Sherlock stated simply.

“you’re forgiven” he added softly after a moment and John smiled at him with the genuine smile that Sherlock had truly missed while away. 

After dinner was cleared up by John and tea was made, also by John, they were sitting in their chairs. Neither one of them really wanted to bring the evening to an end when they were finally having what felt like a proper reunion.

“Have you missed the work then?” John asked “Although i’m sure you were kept busy dealing with those bastards who were trying to kill everyone”

“It was fairly busy but there were a few things I did find myself missing in London” Sherlock said before sipping his tea. 

“Yeah” John added “I think I know the feeling.” 

 

Eventually it came time for John to go and Sherlock to get some sleep. Again Sherlock faced the problem of wanting John to stay and having no idea how to communicate it. He felt like things were getting better, but they still seemed to be on shaky ground and he didn't want to push John away when he had finally gotten him back. 

“Actually Sherlock, do you mind if I stay the night?” John asked when he was about ready to leave once again “I, uhm, just think it might be best to monitor you on the pills and ensure you don’t have any bad side effects, you know, because this is your first dose” he added not quite making eye contact.

Sherlock saw right through the lie. He was only going to take half a pill tonight, a dose so low that there were guaranteed to be almost no side effects, especially on a person his size. John wanted to stay for his own reasons and Sherlock was ecstatic. He had more hope than ever that John would soon be back at Baker Street where he belonged.

Sherlock couldn't quite help the smile that made its way onto his face as he replied “yes, I think that would be best”

and John’s answering smile was even better than the one at dinner.

John walked into the kitchen and when he returned, handed Sherlock a glass of water and half of a small white pill and waited expectantly.

Sherlock downed the pill and handed the glass back to John. 

“Good, well goodnight Sherlock” John said putting the glass on the table “I’ll check up on you in the morning” he added with a smile.

“Goodnight John” Sherlock said and went to his room to think about why it was that every time John smiled, he seemed to have a physical reaction to it.

He didn't get very far in his hypothesis before he was fast asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

John woke up the next morning and everything was silent meaning that Sherlock wasn't up yet. He smiled to himself at the thought of Sherlock actually getting some much needed sleep. John stretched lazily, not quite ready to get up yet and instead found himself thinking about what his life had become within the last few days.

He would never get over how he treated Sherlock when he had first come to see him. He had been given the chance of a lifetime and he had wasted their first meeting being angry before he even knew the whole story. People liked to think that Sherlock wasn't human, in fact John remembered a time where he had called Sherlock a machine. He had never regretted his choice of words so much until he had said those harsh words that first night. Sherlock was the most selfless person he had ever met and he didn't even want credit for all of the work he had done. He hadn't even planned on telling Lestrade about why he was away, and John knew that it was because Sherlock didn't need or want the recognition for saving his life. 

John couldn't believe he had ever been angry at Sherlock to begin with and now he wanted nothing more than to get back to what the two of them had always had. The only problem was he didn't know how to approach Sherlock about moving in. He hated his new flat, had since the moment he moved in, and now he wasn't sure how much Sherlock even wanted him back at Baker Street. He knew that Sherlock had wanted him to stay that first night but he was the one who had asked to stay over last night. He honestly wouldn't blame Sherlock if he didn't want to take him back as a flatmate after how he had treated him but hopefully they could still be friends. He just got Sherlock back, he couldn't lose him entirely again. 

After a few more minutes of quiet contemplation, John decided to get up and make tea.

It wasn't until he got to the kitchen that he heard the noises. It sounded like Sherlock was in pain so John rushed to his bedroom and opened the door.

“Sherlock?” he asked but there was no response, only more groans of pain.

He was still asleep John realized. As he watched Sherlock lying in bed, his body twisted in the sheets, John knew that he was having a nightmare. His face was contorted in an agonized expression and there was a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. John stood there contemplating whether to wake him or not when the thrashing started. Sherlock was violently twisting in the sheets and suddenly let out and absolutely terrifying scream at the top of his lungs.

John lurched forward and put one outstretched hand on the detective’s shoulder, keeping his distance (he had first hand experience with what happened when you got too close to someone in the midst of a nightmare) as he gently shook him awake.

“Sherlock, can you hear me?” he asked speaking softly and gently “you’re having a nightmare, c’mon wake up Sherlock”

finally Sherlock sat up with a start, looking extremely confused at his surroundings for a moment before looking at John. After another moment, understanding came over him and John could see that he was embarrassed by his display. 

“I had a nightmare” he said, it was not a question. 

“yeah, you did” John said softly “don’t suppose you'd want to talk about it?” he asked just in case (he already knew the answer)

“no” Sherlock replied firmly and then paused “I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked after a second.

“you didn’t, its okay” John replied “I know what it’s like to wake up and be completely disoriented, I once broke a lamp at my first apartment back in London because of a nightmare.”

Sherlock merely snorted at the absurdity of John’s anecdote, but John could tell that having the attention on someone else had helped a bit. 

“Come out and have some breakfast, I’m just about to make tea and scrambled eggs on toast” He told Sherlock, getting up to leave the room and walk into the kitchen.

Sherlock took a while to come out, but John had hear the shower running and then Sherlock’s voice drifting out from the bedroom clearly on a phone call. When Sherlock finally sat down at the table, everything was all set for breakfast.

“Were you on the phone just now?” John asked, curious about who he was talking to.

“Mycroft” Sherlock replied by way of answer “he was telling me about the press release tomorrow, apparently I should expect a farce” he rolled his eyes.

“Well he’s probably right, people are going to go mad when they know you're back” John said around a bite of toast “You were big news for a long time when they finally proved that Moriarty was real and had been behind all of it.”

“They’re all idiots anyway” Sherlock scoffed “I couldn't care less whether they knew I was back at all, but Mycroft insists its the only way that I can start living life as normal again.”

John saw this as his opportunity to approach the subject. He was nervous about discussing this but it was now or never. If he was coming back, He would have to move his things in today, before Sherlock’s life became a mess with all the publicity.

“So if life is going back to normal again, do you think you’ll find another flatmate?” John asked feigning nonchalance and not looking up from his food.

“I hadn't planned on having anyone else” Sherlock said sounding mildly shocked at being asked “I see you haven’t taken a new flat mate either” he added.

“No, didn't feel right really” He finally looked up “I couldn't imagine myself living with anyone else if I'm honest.” 

It felt good to finally admit that and Sherlock’s mouth turned up at the corner a tiny bit, so John knew the comment wasn't entirely unwelcome.

“no, I agree” Sherlock said. 

Silence hung over them for a few minutes before Sherlock spoke again.

“John, the clinic doesn't pay much and as you haven’t taken on another flatmate I do think it would be in your best interest to move back to Baker Street where things will inevitably be much more affordable and financially stable for you” Sherlock blurted out at the speed normally reserved for his deductions.

John almost laughed at the pained expression on Sherlock’s face as he nervously rushed to get the words out. It was clear now that Sherlock wanted him to move back in and he felt a surge of joy as well as a deep affection for this man who was utterly incapable of expressing emotion.

“I missed you too you massive twat, I’ll move my things back in today before everything becomes a insane with your publicity scandal” he smiled at Sherlock. 

For the first time since he had been back, Sherlock smiled a wide, genuine smile at John and there was a perceptible lift in atmosphere for the rest of breakfast. Things were finally going back to normal, Sherlock was finally home.

 

They decided that today would have to be the day to tell Lestrade seeing as the rest of the world would know by tomorrow. After breakfast, John went home to change his clothes and have a shower. They had agreed it would be best to meet Lestrade somewhere private and John had offered to use his soon to be discarded flat so Sherlock was to meet them there at noon, after John had a chance to invite Lestrade over.

As noon came around Sherlock got out of the cab and prepared to face his second personal greeting since his return. He rather hoped this one went better than the first, but for some reason he was not at all nervous to tell Lestrade compared to his frazzled nerves at the thought of seeing John again for the first time. 

He walked up to the front door and rung the doorbell, silently wondering who would answer as they hadn't planned any of the rest of this out. As it turned out, Lestrade was one the one to come to the door.

He was turned around and still talking to John as the door swung open.

“John, why didn't you say you were expecting company I would have—” He stopped abruptly having turned around and finally seen Sherlock.

“Ah Lestrade, it’s friday afternoon shouldn’t you be at work?” he asked with a sly smile (this was slightly amusing, he had to admit)

“YOU BLOODY BASTARD” Lestrade laughed, his face one of complete disbelief “leave it up to Sherlock fucking Holmes to rise from the dead and insult my work ethic” 

And then came another one of those unexpected hugs that Sherlock seemed to attract, but Lestarde’s seemingly genuine joy at having him back dulled the discomfort a bit. 

John stood back watching and smiling at the exchange between the two. Lestrade eventually pulled back and let Sherlock inside before someone else saw and this turned into the expected insanity of tomorrow a day too early. 

The rest of the afternoon reminded him very much of his exchange John but without the underlying intensity he had felt then. Sherlock went through a shorter version of his explanation for his disappearance and was greeted with a similar form of disbelief.

“You did all of that for us?” Lestrade asked, still looking as shocked as he had when he first opened the door.

“I suppose.” Sherlock agreed “As i’ve explained, there was no other option” 

“You’re a bloody marvel do you know that?” Lestrade asked “I know that I don’t say it enough and I kicked myself for it the whole time I thought you were dead so I need to say it, you are a fucking genus Sherlock Holmes and I appreciate everything you have ever done for me and for the force” he concluded firmly. 

Sherlock was really at a loss as to what to say. He loathed all this emotional conversation that seemed to accompany his return.

“Don’t say anything, just agree to come back to work with us again when things have calmed down after tomorrow” Lestrade said as though reading his mind.

That was something Sherlock could gladly agree to.

“It might be slightly less tedious than sitting around in the flat” he said haughtily “you may text me with cases rated no less than a 7 once things around my return have calmed down.”

Lestrade laughed good-naturedly at that and agreed before excusing himself because, as it turns out Sherlock was right, he really did have to be back at work now that his lunch break was over. 

When John shut the door to his flat it was a relief. Sherlock was glad to have all of his personal “first meetings” over with.

“That went rather well” John said sitting down on his small couch “Knew he’d be happy to have you back, he was a wreck for a little while just after you were gone.” 

“Yes, well I am glad that I’ll be back to the work soon, its been far too long since I’ve had a good case” Sherlock smiled slightly.

“Shouldn’t be too long now, we just have to survive the next week or so while things calm down” John stated.  
“Yes and if you plan on being able to move your things back home without a group of reporters outside our front door, you had better finish packing” Sherlock replied looking expectantly at the few belonging’s john had lying around the flat.

“Good point” John agreed, not missing Sherlock’s use of the word home for his place at Baker Street “Any chance you’ll help me with that?” he asked hopefully.

“Pass me your phone, i’ll call Mycroft about some boxes and a car to bring your things round to Baker Street, I have some details to discuss with him anyway” Sherlock answered by way of reply.

John laughed, he supposed this was as much help as he could expect.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again :)
> 
> this is just a short chapter filled with domestic fluffy stuff! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy xoxo

The next two days were exactly as expected. The media was filled with stories of Sherlock’s miraculous survival and everyone had different theories on the how’s and why’s of the whole thing. Reporters were outside their door day and night hoping for a quote from Sherlock himself on what was quickly becoming the biggest news story of the year. For the most part, John and Sherlock stayed in the flat. They were still getting accustomed to life as it was before the fall, and while falling into normalcy was easy, there was a slight intangible feeling of change that hung over the flat.

The first thing that drew in John’s attention, was that Sherlock had taken it upon himself to actually help with things once in a while. He had even put a few things away while John had unpacked boxes (although John suspected that it had just been Sherlock’s justification for snooping through his things). There had also been a repeat of the occasion where Sherlock had made the tea for breakfast when John had first stayed over. It wasn't much, but it was different for how they usually were. 

On the third day in the house, John could tell that Sherlock was going stir crazy. He hadn't been outside at all and John knew that if they were held up here any longer things would start to get much worse. However, Sherlock had definitely been sleeping better and there hadn't been a repeat of their first nightmare incident. Sherlock’s dose of sleeping pills hadn’t increased, but John had noticed that Sherlock would sleep for longer periods of time every day to the point where John was almost always up before him. The pills couldn't be helping that much, but whatever it was that was helping Sherlock sleep, John was pleased with.

At present, Sherlock was lying on the couch in his dressing gown with three nicotine patches on his arm (John had hidden the cigarettes again) and shouting at nobody in particular about how dull people were and how bored he was. It was so familiar that John would have smiled, had it not been driving him crazy.

“Right” John said walking to tower over Sherlock’s still form on the couch “We need to get you out of the house, we’re out of almost everything in the fridge so you're going to come with me to do some shopping.”

This elicited and even louder and more agonized groan from Sherlock. 

“John please be realistic” Sherlock whined looking up at him “that may just be the only thing more boring than staying here.”

“No, you need to leave this place before we have a repeat of that time you put bullets through the wall” John reached down, grabbing Sherlock’s arm to pull him upright. 

Once standing, John moved to stand behind him and put his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders so he could maneuver him towards the bedroom in an effort to get him to dress. 

“Put some real clothes on and come out when you're done” John said decidedly pushing Sherlock into the bedroom and and shutting the door.

It was ten minutes later when Sherlock walked out of his room dressed impeccably in a striking black suit and form fitting purple shirt. John couldn't help but take a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him. Leave it to Sherlock Holmes to go grocery shopping looking like that.

John walked over to the hook by the door and took Sherlock’s coat over to him. This earned him a curious stare from the detective, but there was something he wanted to do. He gestured for Sherlock to turn around and then helped him into his coat, standing back to appreciate his work when he was done. 

“You know, while you were gone, I thought I saw this coat everywhere” He said, lost in thought “It’s nice to see you in it again” he added with a small smile. 

Sherlock continued to look at him, his expression melting into a hint of something softer and John struggled not to squirm under the attention of that all-seeing gaze.

John cleared his throat “Well we should get going” he said “no time like the present to face the herd of reports outside the front door”

Sherlock made an incoherent noise and moved to start walking out the door and down the stairs. John followed behind him and when they got to the bottom of the steps they both took a small pause, readying themselves, before John opened the door. 

Everything exploded in flashes of light and sound and John moved in front of Sherlock to push away the reporters so they could get out. Questions were shouted from every direction and with each push that John gave, the group pushed back harder. As soon as they were out of the mob, they were sprinting, both running as fast as they could to escape the press. 

When the group chasing them was finally out of sight, they stopped in a side alley to catch their breath. All it took was one look from Sherlock, and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles, laughing so hard that both of them were doubled over. It felt amazing, just like they first adrenaline filled day that they had spent together. Hearing Sherlock laugh, after thinking for so long that he may never hear that sound again, filled John with so much joy he was sure that he was radiating it. 

“See” John started, still giggling “told you it would be good to get out”

Sherlock smiled a completely genuine smile back at John “It’s no case” he started “but I should know by now that you never lead me astray.”

They finally made it to the store and Sherlock was following John through the isles staring intensely at each of the products on the shelf, no doubt considering options for his next experiment. He would occasionally drop things into the cart that were definitely not on the list (John hated pickles) but John was in such a good mood that he couldn't possibly have minded.

When they got home, and passed the reporters (who unfortunately had figured out that the pair of them would have to return at some point) John put all of the bags on the counter. He started packing things away but paused when he felt Sherlock’s presence hovering behind him in the doorway just watching.

“your limp is gone” Sherlock said, giving John’s bad leg a pointed look.

John followed Sherlock’s gaze down to his leg. He had noticed the first night he came rushing over to Baker Street that he had forgotten all about his limp and it hadn’t returned since.It seemed to be a side effect of being friends with Sherlock, he was constantly forgetting his problems in favour of the other man’s. 

“Always seems to do that when you’re around” he admitted, not missing the resemblance to the conversation they had the first night he had ever spent with Sherlock chasing down the cabbie after dinner at Angelo’s “suppose I just forget about it.” 

Sherlock hummed, a signal that he had heard what John had said but chose not to respond, and walked towards the counter to start putting things away. John stilled for a second, filled with a pleasant sort of shock at Sherlock’s actions, and then continued what he was doing. The next few minutes were spent in a comfortable silence and John took the time to appreciate the domesticity of it all. Today had been like starting over he thought as the two of them silently put away the groceries; running through the streets of London, forgetting about his limp, feeling more comfortable with Sherlock than anywhere else in the world. The last two years felt like John had been away too (away from Baker Street and away from himself in a sense) and he really was glad to finally be home.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock hadn't missed the changes that were occurring around the flat (of course he hadn’t, noticing detail was his expertise). It started with the peculiar incident with his coat. John had helped him into it, and Sherlock was under no delusions that it was because John thought him incapable of doing it himself. He just couldn't understand why John had done it and then looked so pleased with himself afterwards, and it didn't stop there. John would touch Sherlock, minor touches that most people wouldn't pay much attention to, but Sherlock was not most people. Sherlock was almost sure that even John didn't notice what he was doing, which made everything that much more confusing.

It was small things, like a hand on his shoulder when John would walk past him or walking close enough to Sherlock that their shoulders would occasionally bump and their arms would brush together. It wasn't that Sherlock minded exactly it was just an observation, and that was what worried him. He had no idea what to make of these small gestures or the fact that he was completely okay with them, he even found himself pleased by them. He could understand that he needed John and wanted to keep him for as long as possible, but emotions were never something that he had understood well and it was proving to be no different with his own.

Things had finally started to die down with the press and the world seemed to have moved on to another news story just as quickly as they had attached themselves to this one. Lestrade had texted Sherlock that morning about a case, and he and John had spent the afternoon at the crime scene, finally back in their element. Unfortunately the case turned out to be a 4, and Sherlock had solved it within an hour of being on the scene; in short, it was dull.

“Did Lestrade ask you about any other cases?” John asked as they walked 

“No, it seems that all the interesting criminals have decided to disappear and Lestrade and his team are apparently able to handle the ones that remain” Sherlock replied clearly annoyed.

John laughed at that and seemed to move in closer as they continued along the street. Sherlock wanted to ask him about this, about why he wanted to be so close to him, but he couldn't find a suitable way to bring it up so he kept silent. 

Eventually, as they neared Baker Street, John stopped and turned to Sherlock. 

“hungry?” he asked a small smile on his face, he was in a particularly good mood today.

Sherlock just nodded in response 

“Good, because i’m thinking Angelo’s” he added and they rerouted their course and headed to the restaurant.

Dinner was pleasant, as it always was with John. He was laughing and smiling and talking animatedly about the case and how brilliant Sherlock was, and Sherlock found that John’s good mood significantly lifted his as well. Angelo was thrilled to see Sherlock again and of course made the usual comments about his “favourite couple”. What Sherlock found particularly peculiar was that John’s usually resistant attitude towards the statement seemed to be missing. Where he would normally politely deny Angelo’s claims, he kept silent and smiled good-naturedly at the man instead. Needless to say, this didn't help Sherlock’s confusion about their seemingly changing dynamic. 

“So you’ve been sleeping better it seems” John said after dessert had arrived to the table “I’m always up long before you these days”

Sherlock made a sound of acknowledgement but gave no reply. In truth, he knew that having John in the flat made all the difference to his sleeping habits. After two years of being constantly alert, it was comforting to have John’s steady presence around. Sherlock trusted him to be able to handle whatever was thrown at them and so he gave in to his body’s exhaustion after two years of little to no sleep. In truth, he hadn’t been taking the pills at all. He would pretend to swallow them for John’s benefit but would get rid of them as soon as his back was turned. John was entirely to thank for his newfound rest.

“Pills helping then?” John continued 

“It would seem so” Sherlock replied, hoping to end the conversation there.

“Good, i’m glad to see you getting some sleep” John smiled “you look much better than the first night I was over”

Sherlock scoffed at this “I should hope so, I had just returned from two years of travel and almost resorted to cocaine John, it doesn't get much worse” he replied honestly

John laughed a little at that “You’re right, I’m just glad you're back home and happier than that night” he added before pausing “you are happy, arent you?”

Sherlock was unsure about how to answer this one because in truth he was. He was happier now than he could recall being in a long time and it had everything to do with being back at Baker Street with John, being home. The trouble was the he wasn’t sure he could say any of that to John. 

“Yes” he answered honestly holding eye contact with John “I would say that I am”

He needed John to know that his happiness was in no small part, because of him but as usual he hadn't the slightest idea of how to actually tell him with words.

A moment passed where neither of them looked away, and the electricity that was there seemed almost palpable before John broke the stare and smiled down at his food.

“me too” he said still not looking up “i’m really quite happy”

 

That night, the nightmares returned. Sherlock hadn't a clue as to why but as soon as he closed his eyes, he was back in the middle east being held captive by a terrorist cell associated with Moriarty. In his dream, he was chained to a wall in a dark room, the only light coming from under a doorway too far to reach. A man came walking in but Sherlock couldn't make out who it was in the darkness of the prison. Before he knew it he was doubled over in pain and spitting up blood as the mystery figure continued to kick him in the stomach. His dream included several other forms of torture before a new figure entered the room and started shaking him. 

The shaking became rougher and rougher until Sherlock awoke with a jerk, flailing his arms wildly in an attempt to break the hold. It wasn't until he took in his surroundings that he realized the he was in no danger, and it had only been John shaking him to wake him from his dream. He looked up and saw John’s concerned expression watching over him.

“You were screaming” John spoke with distinct sadness in his tone.

“I apologize for waking you” Sherlock sighed “It seems now that i’m better rested my mind is attempting to organize two years worth of memories in my dreams”

John just nodded still standing at Sherlock’s bedside.

“do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” he asked after a minute.

“unlikely” Sherlock replied honestly “I have no doubt i’ll only be back in the nightmare as soon as my eyes are closed”

“Well maybe we could up the dose of your pills and your mind wont be active enough to replay those memories” John suggested.

Sherlock sighed, he supposed now was as good a time as ever to tell John about his neglect with regards to the medication.

“I haven’t been taking the pills John” Sherlock stated blatantly “I dislike feeling dependant on anything for help, especially with something as trivial as sleep, so I haven’t taken them since the first night”

That last bit was a partial lie, he really didn't like being dependant on them but the real reason he hadn't taken the pills was because he hadn't needed to with John here. It was that simple.

“oh” John paused “well then what’s been helping you sleep so well lately?”

“exhaustion” Sherlock lied. 

“I suppose that makes sense” John replied, looking unconvinced “well its early morning Sherlock so i’m going back to sleep, and you should too, your body’s not fully recovered yet”

Sherlock made a noncommittal noise, knowing that he couldn't promise something that almost surely wouldn't happen. He had no desire to relive his time away in his dreams.

“well let me know if you need anything” John said turning to leave.

Sherlock made a spur of the moment decision and the words were out of his mouth before his brain had even caught up (which was alarming because that had never happened before).

“John stay.. please” was what Sherlock had blurted out.

“what?” John asked turning around, confusion the dominant expression on his face “you want me to stay here?”

Sherlock immediately regretted his rushed words. Why would John want to stay here with him. They were two grown men and Sherlock didn't know much about relationships in general but he was almost sure that a heterosexual man like John would not want to share a bed with any other man, let alone him. Grown men didn't share beds. He was embarrassed at his thoughtlessness and let the silence hang in the air as a result, too mortified to say anything. 

John studied him for a moment before casually replying “okay, budge over then.”

Sherlock didn't move for a second, slightly shocked, but then moved over to the other side of the bed to make room for John. John climbed in and fluffed the pillow a little to make himself comfortable before turning to face away from Sherlock.

“Night Sherlock” John added with a yawn.

 

Sherlock didn't reply, just watching John. John had chosen to stay with him despite the odd nature of Sherlocks request. He hadn't even hesitated really, just climbed into bed as if it were normal and was now snoring softly beside him. As Sherlock watched him sleeping peacefully, he was suddenly overwhelmed with what could only be affection for the man beside him. It didn't slip past him how lucky he was to have John but tonight had made him more grateful than ever before. 

Sherlock considered everything he had taken in about John’s behaviour and decided that whatever was happening to their friendship, he was okay with. In fact, he would very much like for things to continue the way they were going. Eventually sleep recaptured Sherlock (those two years really had take a toll on him) and he spent the rest of the night in a pleasantly dreamless sleep beside John.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again,
> 
> It's been a while but here's a new chapter! Forgive me if there are spelling/grammatical errors as I was in a bit of a rush to finish this one! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy xoxo

For the next couple of weeks the nightmares refused to cease. John could tell that Sherlock was getting more and more frustrated with his brain’s attempt to sort through his experience and he could relate. It was awful trying to will yourself to sleep when you knew there would only be horror waiting in your dreams. As a result of this, Sherlock had given up sleep all together since the night that John stayed with him (of which there had not been a repeat); that had been a week ago and John was determined to change it.

It was a rainy day outside Baker Street and neither John nor Sherlock (surprisingly) had any desire to leave the flat. John loved days like these and appreciated them even more considering how rare they were. As a result of their lazy day, John decided they would order food and watch crap telly to pass the time.

John had just gotten back from opening the door for the food delivery when he heard the clattering in the kitchen.

“Sherlock what are you doing in there, I just picked up food and i’ll make tea later” He yelled as he walked up the stairs and into the kitchen

“relax John, i’m not cooking” Sherlock scoffed

John looked at him, sitting at the table in his dressing gown hunched over his microscope and realized that he must be doing an experiment. Curious, he walked over and put has hands on Sherlock’s shoulders, peering over them to see what he was working on.

“So what is it this time then?” he inquired casually “another experiment with those frog legs you picked up?”

Sherlock just hummed and leaned back a little, not lifting his eyes from the microscope

“well how about you take a break for a bit and have some food” John ruffled his hair as he walked around Sherlock and back to the counter where he had left the food.

He laid out all the cartons (they had decided on Chinese) and turned around to ask Sherlock whether he wanted any of the dumplings when he was faced with a curious stare from the other man.

“What?” John asked suddenly the slightest bit insecure

Sherlock continued his stare for a few seconds and then simply replied “i’ll have some of the dumplings tonight” before turning back to his microscope.

Shaking his head and chuckling a little under his breath, John turned back to the food and got both of their plates set up before calling on Sherlock to join him for dinner in front of the television.

Once they were both seated on the couch, John decided on some crap made for t.v. movie and settled in to enjoy as Sherlock picked apart every little detail of it.

By the time the movie was over, it was just passed 5pm and Sherlock had somehow migrated so that his head was in John’s lap as he lazily ran his fingers through the mess of curls.

John had noticed the increase in physical affection between them but he couldn't seem to help himself. It was almost as if it had become instinctive, like checking that Sherlock really was there and tangible was second nature to him. It was a comfort to be able to touch Sherlock and verify that he was actually real, especially on the days when John had nightmares of his own, but it scared John a little that he had come to look forward to the casual touches that they shared.

John looked down to ask Sherlock about something he had said during the movie and found the detective fast asleep in his lap and snoring lightly. he couldn't help but smile down at the scene before him. Sherlock so desperately needed the sleep and if he was honest, he had hoped that this lazy day would encourage it.

John considered what to do about his current situation and decided not to risk waking Sherlock by suggesting he move to his bed. So, John flipped through the channels until he found something suitable for background noise and sat back, happy to continue brushing his fingers through Sherlock’s hair as the other man slept peacefully.

Sherlock’s nap lasted only about an hour and John could tell that it wasn't enough as soon as he opened his eyes. There were only two ways that someone could wake up from a nap, refreshed or groggy and moody, Sherlock was very decidedly the second option.

“John, why did you let me sleep?” He huffed distinctly annoyed as he sat up with a start.

“Because you needed it Sherlock” He stated simply “why, did you have more dreams?”

Sherlock didn't even bother to dignify that with a response and instead opted for a rather scathing glare in John’s direction. John didn't hear anything or see any signs of distress while Sherlock napped so he put his sudden mood change down to an unsatisfying nap and annoyance at being worried over as opposed to anything else.

“Look why don’t you have a shower and then go back to bed, you clearly didn't get enough sleep and you cant keep avoiding it Sherlock” John sighed getting up to follow him into the kitchen.

Sherlock was back at the table looming over his microscope and completely ignoring what John had said. Instead he was still muttering angrily about having napped.

“This experiment was time sensitive John” Sherlock practically growled “It’s ruined now thanks to your stupid concern over my transport, which by the way is fine without sleep”

John was starting to get angry now too, which was especially annoying considering he had thoroughly enjoyed their lazy day thus far.

“okay, firstly you didn't bloody tell me that the experiment was time sensitive so I couldn't have known that” John spat with a little more anger than intended “ and secondly I don’t give a damn about your experiment Sherlock, you haven’t slept in a week and your health comes first”

Sherlock stood up now and made his way over to loom over John instead of his experiment.

“Why are you so concerned with what I do John” he spoke softly but with distinct rage and John wasn't even sure there was a point to the fight they were currently having “I spent two years barely sleeping and i’m still going, I don’t need it or your pitiful attempts at helping me."

Sherlock walked back over to his experiment and picked it up, walking over to bin the whole thing now that it was supposedly ruined. John spoke while his back was still turned.

“still going?” he practically yelled in disbelief “you almost relapsed the first night you were home, you don’t sleep any more and you lash out like this, you are barely functioning at this point”

Sherlock slammed the tray with the frog legs into the bin with a surprisingly loud bang.

“doesn’t say much for you does it?” Sherlock yelled in return “I’m supposedly barely functioning and i’m still worlds more intelligent than you and the rest of the entire human population”

John couldn't even believe this was still going on, it was not doubt the most pointless argument they had ever had.

“Sherlock this is ridiculous, just go get some sleep and stop acting like a child” he sighed ready for this stupid fight to be over already

“How can you be so unobservant” Sherlock was still yelling “You claim to care about my health but you haven’t even stopped to notice the fact that I can’t sleep even if I wanted to”

John paused, he had thought Sherlock was just avoiding sleep not physically incapable of it.

“Every time I close my eyes I see all of the things I work so hard to delete” he was still yelling “Do you really think I don’t know that my function is impaired, of course I know, but there isn't a damn thing I can do to change that”

“I gave you those sleeping pills Sherlock and you refused to take them, you always had that option”

Sherlock laughed and it was anything but a pleasant sound.

“you really are an idiot if you think those were any help to me” he snarled

“Than what Sherlock?” John was back to yelling again “You are here throwing a fit at _me_ over the fact that _you_ can’t sleep, what can I do that could possibly help you sleep?”

“Stay, John” he yelled again “The only reason I was able to get any sleep at the beginning was because you were back in the flat but since the nightmares became worse just having you living here isn’t enough anymore. Its humiliating that I even have to admit this to you because surely even you can see that the only way I actually sleep anymore is when i’m next to you.”

John was shocked into silence. Sleeping with Sherlock that night was a major change in their usual routine but john had been tired and it was the middle of the night and he hadn't really thought anything of it, even when he woke the next morning it had just seemed like a distant dream. He had figured Sherlock’s nightmare was a particularly bad one that night and he just wanted company to ease him through it. He would never have thought that he was the only reliable resource Sherlock had to help him sleep at all.

Sherlock didn’t stick around after that but mumbled something about leaving him alone and left to slam his bedroom door.

John felt like an idiot immediately after he had left. In fact, he felt like an asshole and an idiot. Sherlock hated being vulnerable, and he really didn't know how to navigate the whole emotional thing. John should have realized that him asking John to stay that night had meant more than just some company for the evening. He knew that Sherlock would be embarrassed about having to state what he needed from John and without even really realizing it, John had forced him to do it.

John decided then and there that he would give Sherlock exactly what he needed and find a way to make him feel less embarrassed about it. Sherlock had been gone for two years and suffered so much just to take care of John and now John was determined to take care of him.

 

John gave Sherlock a few hours to cool down and then walked over to his bedroom door around 10pm. He knocked at first but got no response so he tried the door, which evidently, was open (Sherlock must have forgotten to lock it in his rush to get away from John earlier).

Sherlock was sitting on his bed with his laptop in front of him typing furiously.

“Answering e-mails about cases?” he asked gingerly as he walked in, Sherlock always solved easy cases to blow off steam.

As expected he got no reply.

“Look Sherlock, i’m really sorry for how I acted earlier” he started sincerely “I know you don’t want to talk about it but I know what it's like dealing with nightmares that are persistent and I want you to know that you don’t need to be embarrassed to ask for whatever you need to help you with that”

“I’m not embarrassed” he huffed haughtily, but closed the lid of his laptop to look at John.

  
“fair enough” john stated looking at him “but can I stay here tonight?”

John knew that there was no way Sherlock would ask him for this again after their fight tonight. He also knew that Sherlock would not have said anything about needing John’s proximity to sleep if it weren't absolutely true.

“No” Sherlock stated firmly, getting up to move away from John and walk to the other side of the room “I don’t need your pity John, i’m perfectly fine on my own”

Still embarrassed then.

“I’m not asking for you” John lied obviously “you aren’t the only one with nightmares you know, and having someone else there helps.”

Sherlock paused and turned to look at him, taking a moment to consider.

“Fine, but you need to leave so I can get ready for bed first” he replied turning to his dresser.

John smiled. He knew there was no way Sherlock had believed his lie but he was glad his plan worked.

Fifteen minutes later John walked back into Sherlock’s room all ready for bed himself, to find Sherlock on his side of the bed lying on his back visibly tense.

John walked over to the other side and climbed in awkwardly, he hadn't realized it would be like this without the exhaustion of the middle of the night to soften the blow. He was in bed with his best friend. John Watson the decidedly straight man was in bed with the distinguishably male Sherlock Holmes. He knew it was insane that this was bothering him so much but it seemed like such a blatantly obvious fact now that he wasn't deliriously tired.

“oh please John” Shelrock broke the silence, his tone disdainful “if you're going to act like i’m attacking your sexuality by being in the same bed as you then just leave”

He rolled over to face away from John and John could see how tense he was. John wanted to punch himself for making things so terribly awkward. Besides, this didn't mean anything, it wasn't as if he had wanted to be in bed with Sherlock, this was purely to help his best friend sleep. The thought relaxed him and he scooted closer to Sherlock.

“I’m sorry” he replied “it’s just different this time, but I'm good now promise”

Sherlock visibly relaxed but didn't turn over when he mumbled “goodnight John”

John smiled “Goodnight Sherlock” .

Within minutes Sherlock was fast asleep and John’s smile returned as he watched the other man but soon faded as a realization hit him. What did it mean that it was only John who could ease Sherlock’s mind enough for him to sleep? While John had to admit it was flattering that he comforted Sherlock enough to chase away the nightmares, it was also undeniably terrifying.

He hadn't known Sherlock to harbour feelings for anyone but was it presumptuous for John to think that maybe this meant that Sherlock had feelings for him? And if that was true, how did John feel about Sherlock?

Having all those thoughts hit him at once was overwhelming. He couldn't deny that his feelings towards Sherlock had changed drastically since his return. It should have been obvious just by the fact that he couldn't stop touching the man. He wouldn't go as far as saying he loved Sherlock more than the love you had for your best friend, but it felt more and more like they were moving past the point of platonic. Did Sherlock realize it too?

John looked over at the other man again. He looked incredibly peaceful and it dawned on John just how beautiful Sherlock was when he was like this, all long lines and sharp edges. In sleep all of his facial features seemed to soften but he was just as captivating without his usual intense sharp stare. Everything about him screamed soft and sleepy and John just wanted to reach out and brush the stray curls from his forehead.

Well shit.

That was something to consider now wasn’t it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again lovelies, 
> 
> I want to warn you that this chapter has a fairly graphic description or torture in it, so if that is something that you would like to avoid please do so!
> 
> other than that, hope you enjoy xoxo

Sherlock woke the next morning after the first real night of sleep he had had in a long while, feeling refreshed and exceedingly warm. It took him an alarmingly long time to realize that the reason for his increase in temperature was his being completely wrapped up in John. At some point in the middle of the night John must have rolled over, flung his arm over sherlock and entangled their legs.

Sherlock was pleased with his current situation. He felt completely safe and of course had had a nightmare free night, all thanks to the man he was currently, for lack of a better word, cuddling. 

Judging by John’s deep breathing and the light snoring Sherlock could hear, John was still asleep, giving Sherlock time to mentally take stock of yesterday. He was embarrassed by his behaviour no doubt but there was nothing he could do to change it at this point and the way that John had reacted was .. unexpected. He had stayed with Sherlock and eased his embarrassment by attempting (however poorly) to take the focus off of Sherlock. 

It had become clear to Sherlock recently that what he felt for John went far beyond friendship and respect (beyond even his initial discovery of his need to have John in his life), but he had no idea how to classify his feelings. He also had no idea how John felt in relation to him. While it had been kind of him to stay the night, it was clear that John had not been comfortable getting into bed with him and Sherlock knew it had almost everything to do the fact that he was male. To say he was confused was an understatement and Sherlock decided that in the wake of his confusion, he would ignore his complicate situation and go on as if nothing had happened. 

John eventually started to wake up and Sherlock decided to fake sleeping in order to avoid the inevitable identity crisis John would have upon seeing their entanglement. He lay still and slowed his breathing, mimicking the rapid eye movement phase of sleep while John woke. Sherlock waited to hear some sign of surprise or disgust and while John did seem to pause slightly in his movements, none of what he expected came. In fact, john stretched and yawned but made no attempt to move away from Sherlock until his bladder failed him and he retreated to the bathroom. 

Sherlock took this opportunity to fake his waking and was sat up in bed when John returned form the bathroom. 

“uh morning” John said with an awkward smile, not quite making eye contact.

And there was the awkward Sherlock had been hoping to avoid.

“good morning John” Sherlock replied as nonchalantly as he could. 

John stared at him for a second, a look that Sherlock hadn't seen before evident on his face, before nodding and heading towards the kitchen.

Sherlock sighed and got out of bed, preparing for what would surely be an awkward day because of what he had started last night. With any luck Lestrade would have a case for them today and he could focus on something other than the confusing state his life was currently in. 

Breakfast was silent until Sherlock’s phone buzzed and he couldn't remember the last time he felt such palpable relief. This was of course, apart from the day that John forgave him and moved back in. 

“Lestrade?” John asked as he finished clearing up the last of the dishes?

“mhm” Sherlock hummed in response “ there’s been a series of murders, victims are all 20 year old females but other than that no connection so far” 

“Well i’ve got a shift at the clinic today, think you can handle this one without me?” John asked

“Of course John” Sherlock replied haughtily “I am capable of functioning without being completely dependant you know”

John paused and sighed “You know that wasn't what I meant Sherlock” 

“yes well, in any case I may not be home until late” he added “I don’t know how long this case will last and since you wont be with me I suggest you not wait up” 

With that Sherlock turned to fetch his coat and dashed down the stairs. He knew that John wouldn't miss the hidden meaning behind his words and would most likely go to sleep in his own bed tonight. Sherlock would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased with having John stay with him at night, but he couldn't handle this heavy set awkwardness as a result. There was also the small matter of his emotional confusion, and sleeping next to the man that was it’s cause was certainly no help and made it much more difficult to ignore.

Upon his arrival, Sherlock discovered that this crime scene was drastically different to the previous (and first since he’d been back) one that himself and John had visited. The previous case had centred around smuggling and while there was a casualty, the killing was fairly neat. 

This was exactly the opposite.

They were in the basement of an abandoned house where the victim had been killed. The girl was completely naked and handcuffed to a pole with both hands behind her back; her arms seemed to be the only thing about her left in tact. She was missing all of the hair on her head and there were a series of scratches and what could only be cigarette burns all over her scalp. Her throat was slit open in a neat line and there were X’s slashed into each one of her shoulders. Her abdomen had been cut open to the extent that her organs could be seen but it was clear from the bruising on the skin that remained untouched, that she had been kicked in the stomach multiple times before being cut open. Her legs were slashed with knife marks as well all the way down to her feet and upon closer inspection,Sherlock could see that she was missing 2 toes on each foot. There were pools of blood surrounding her but non left to leak out of her body. 

Sherlock suddenly wished more than anything, that John was here with him. His mental state had been fine during the day but it was becoming clear to him that this was too much, too close to his own experiences (though they were clearly to a lesser extent than this girl had suffered). 

He steeled himself and decided that he would give his deductions as quickly as possible before making his way out of there. 

“How long ago was she found?” He asked Greg hurriedly 

“about 2 hours but we put her time of death at about 12 hours ago” He answered looking at the girl, Sherlock felt like he barely heard him. 

“yes, well, uhm its clear by the” Sherlock paused taking a deep breath, but all that made him want to do was retch “colour of the bruising she’s been here for about 3 days”

“everything alright Sherlock?” Greg asked clearly concerned “ you look a little pale, do you want me to call John?”

“why on earth would I want you to do that, he isn't my babysitter” Sherlock snapped “The lacerations on her legs match those on her shoulders, not a coincidence” he continued quickly

“check the closet over there” he pointed to a small closet in the corner of the basement, he was practically gasping for breath at this point “there are tiny blood marks leading to the door, the knife may be in there”

Sherlock paused gulping in another round of air “killer was clearly an idiot, also most likely a male over the age of 60, I fear she may have been raped before her torture and its clear from your description of the other victims that the killer has a type”

Sherlock had spit all of this information out in record time and was ready to leave at this point. He had given Lestrade and the force enough to go on for now.

“Send over pictures of the other victims and crime scenes” he managed to get out as he turned for the stairs that would lead him to the upper level “i’ll get back to you with notes”

With that, he hurled himself up the stairs and out of the house as fast as he could. He needed to get away from that basement. He heard Lestrade calling out to him in concern but there was no way he could stop now much less go back down there. 

Sherlock’s head was spinning. It was too much like that last time he had been captured. He was losing control and the only thing his mind would bring up were the remembered sensations of himself being burned with cigarettes and slashed with knives, being kicked in the stomach, starved and nearly drowned. 

He sat down on the steps leading up to the house and tried to force himself to get it together or at least slow his rapid breathing, but it was no use. The first few sobs were already starting to break through and there was no way to control the tears that had gathered and already threatened to leak over onto his face. He was mortified but thankfully alone and made his escape before Lestrade could come back to find him in this state. 

Sherlock was barely in control of himself on the cab ride home and he had never been more thankful to come back to an empty apartment because as soon as he stepped in the door the sobs broke loose. 

There had been a period of time, just after his return that no one was privy to except Mycroft. He had completely lost himself, his captors had used the threat of John and his friends to break him and it had definitely worked. 

He had been held for 6 months in a deserted factory in the dark and spent much of his time like the girl he had seen today. He would never tell anyone of what he was like when he was finally freed. Sherlock had cringed at any bright lights or loud sounds, had been frightened by everyone and everything and the smallest gesture could send him into a full blown panic attack leaving him curled into a ball for hours. He was barely able to remember how to speak in full sentences and it took him a while to regain the ability to eat or do regular human things like brush his teeth. It was like the torture had sent his brain back to infancy. 

It had taken another 6 months of extremely intensive care and rehabilitation to get him ready to return to London and in this moment, it felt as though every last shred of the self control he had regained was slipping away. He had been much much better since being back, but today Sherlock had experienced a debilitating amount of empathy for that girl and he couldn't shake it. 

Sherlock ran to his room and threw the door shut, diving for his bed. He buried himself under the blankets and attempted to keep his mind blank as everything had suddenly become too bright and too loud even in the quiet and dim mid-day sun of the flat. Sobs shook his body as he lay curled in the smallest ball he could manage. He felt utterly pathetic but he could not get himself under control no matter how much he struggled.

This would be how John would find him when he finally returned home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lovely readers :)
> 
> here's another new chapter, again forgive me for any errors, I find myself having to rush to finish these chapters a lot more lately since school will be starting soon and I've been super busy!
> 
> hope you enjoy xoxo 
> 
> (also, your feedback is greatly appreciated so if you feel inclined to leave a comment please do so, I would love you forever)

It had been a long day at the Clinic and as awful as it sounded, John was actually glad to have the flat to himself for a bit to think things over. 

Last night, and his encounter with Sherlock this morning had been on his mind all day long. He hand no idea how he was going to make things less awkward between them and now he might have blown the whole situation entirely because Sherlock clearly wanted to be left alone tonight. All he was trying to do was help Sherlock is some small way and it was turning out to be a disaster all because of his insecurity. He felt bad for making Sherlock feel like he couldn’t come to him at times like this but he had held on to his straight image for as long as he could remember. Even while he was in the army, he was stubborn about only being interested in women. He wasn't sure that he could start to let that go now, even if the only person he had to admit it to was himself. 

John walked into the flat and it was dark as expected. He assumed Sherlock must still be out so he made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The kettle had just finished boiling when he finally realized he might not be alone after all. 

There were small muffled sounds coming from Sherlock’s room and John had no idea what he could possibly be doing in there. He poured his cup of tea and slowly made his way to Sherlock’s room, opening the door gently.

At first John thought he may have been wrong about Sherlock being home. The lights were off so it was dark in the room and the blankets lay heaped on the bed but there was nobody to be seen. It took a few more minutes of looking to notice the small movement occurring underneath Sherlock’s pile of blankets. 

John walked into the room cautiously “Sherlock?” 

There was no reply, but the blankets moved a bit more.

John walked over to Sherlock’s side of the bed, becoming increasingly worried with each step. When he reached the bedside, he put his cup of tea down on the bedside table and slowly peeled back a small section of the blankets that concealed Sherlock’s face.

He was not prepared for what he found underneath. 

Sherlocks face was red and puffy from his crying and the rest of his body still shook from his sobs. He was curled in on himself so tightly he was almost certainly straining the muscles in his back.

“oh my god, Sherlock, what happened?” John gasped softly, completely shocked at the sight before him.

He wanted to yell and ask who could have possibly reduced Sherlock to this state but he knew that now wasn't the right time for his anger. 

He got no response, Sherlock just tried to curl into himself more.

“Okay, come on” he goaded softly, reaching his arms around sherlock to gently maneuver him into a sitting position 

Sherlock sat up but hung his head and continued his silent sobs.

“Sherlock I need you to let me know what happened” John asked, his voice raising slightly with panic “if someone did this to you, you have to tell me so that I can keep you safe”

Sherlock looked up at John then and looked as though he might try and say something but another sob broke free and he returned to looking at the bed and fiddling with his fingers.

This was by far one of the most unnerving things John had ever seen. Sherlock had always been such a strong and competent person, relying on nothing and always remaining composed in the toughest of situations. To see him so broken and vulnerable broke John’s heart into a thousand pieces. He looked at the man before him, looking smaller than he had ever seen him, and decided that the questioning could wait, his friend needed comfort right now and John was damn well going to give it to him.

Sherlock was never one for physical affection but in the past few weeks, he had never seemed to reject any of John’s increasingly frequent touches. John hoped today would be the same as he took the shaking man into his arms and held him there for what seemed like ages.

After a few minutes Sherlock’s breathing slowed and he began to relax into John’s embrace. John had a feeling that Sherlock was too exhausted to be embarrassed by what John had just witnessed and he figured now might be the right time to try and figure out what had caused the heartbreaking melt down he had just witnessed.

“How are you feeling?” John started, speaking softly.

Sherlocks face was still buried in John’s shoulder so his reply was muffled but John heard it well enough when Sherlock all but whispered “better”

“thats good” John smiled, rubbing soothing circles into Sherlock’s back “would you like some tea? You don’t have to leave bed, i’ll go get some and i’ll come right back”

Sherlock looked up at him and nodded, moving himself to lean back on the headboard instead of John. John gave him a reassuring smile before he walked off to the kitchen to make tea as quickly as he could. 

When he walked back, Sherlock was still where he’d left him looking extremely tired.

“here” John sat down handing Sherlock the warm mug

“Thank you John” Sherlock whispered, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he accepted the mug taking a few big gulps.

John knew that the sentiment was not just for the tea. 

“not a problem” he watched Sherlock take another sip and then hold the mug in his lap “Sherlock, do you think you'd be able to tell me what happened today?”

Sherlock looked hesitant, but none of his usual haughtiness was present. His emotional break down seemed to have taken a lot out of him and he didn't seem to be in the mood for fake confidence.

“I went out on the case this morning” Sherlock started “and Lestrade brought me down to where the victim was killed”

Sherlock paused taking a deep breath and seemingly steeling himself before continuing 

“She was in such a state, all mangled and I could tell that she had been” he paused again before shakily continuing “tortured and I - I just couldn't finish my deductions because it was like I couldn't see anything but her”

John was tempted to tell Sherlock that it was alright, and he could stop if he didn't want to continue but Sherlock kept speaking even when it looked like he might start crying again 

“She reminded me of everything I had been through while I was away” He added grimly “It was like I could feel every sensation she had experienced just by looking at her scars because mine looked so similar”

John understood immediately. Sherlock had been triggered at the crime scene today and had had a full-fledged panic attack.

“You knew what she had been through because what they did to her was just like what they did to you wasn't it?” John asked, feeling sick at the thought of anyone laying a hand on Sherlock. 

He merely nodded and went to place his tea on the table besides John because his hand was shaking to much to hold on any longer

“Sherlock I am so sorry that you had to go through that today” John sighed placing his hand over top of Sherlock’s “and I’m sorry that I wasn't there, if something like this ever happens again I want you to promise that you’ll call me” 

Sherlock just nodded and looked up at John, unshed tears still glistening in his eyes.

“Why don’t we try and get some sleep?” He asked and Sherlock nodded shuffling over to his side of the bed to lay down 

“Will you stay tonight?” Sherlock asked, and his voice still sounded fragile as if it could break any second

“Of course” John smiled at him 

They both settled in, and John couldn't bring himself to care that neither of them had changed for bed. 

He considered last night’s awkwardness and how they had woken up in the morning and decided he didn't give a damn about his stupid ideas on sexuality, especially not tonight.

John scooted closer to Sherlock and wrapped an arm around his torso, bringing their bodies together to hold him close. Sherlock tensed a bit at first, and John could almost feel the hesitation in him, but John stayed close and eventually Sherlock relaxed, leaning into the touch. 

A few minutes later Sherlock was asleep and John was once again left with his thoughts.   
He had seen a side of Sherlock today that he had never seen before, and never even knew the other man was capable of if he was honest. To see someone so strong collapse into something so fragile shattered him. It physically hurt to think of what Sherlock must have had to endure to leave him in such a state, and all of it was to protect John. 

That fact alone was the single most admirable and incredible thing that anyone had ever done for him. Sherlock was selfless and incredibly brave and had all but lost himself to make sure that no harm had ever come to John. Every day that he had Sherlock back, was one that he was grateful for and every day Sherlock did something that reminded John how remarkable he truly was. 

Every day, John was forced to reconsider his feelings because every day they were starting to feel a lot more like love.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again lovelies, 
> 
> It has been an age since I last updated and I am so very sorry about that, but life has been insanely busy!
> 
> Never the less, here I am with another new chapter for you and it's a longer one than usual to reward you all for sticking with me on this!
> 
> Thank you so much again for reading, i love you all dearly xoxoxox

Sherlock was in love with John Watson. Emotional confusion aside, he knew that this was the only logical explanation for his feelings and Sherlock could pin point the exact instance that he realized his love for John. 

Sherlock woke the morning after his melt down as he had the day before, wrapped in John’s arms. However this time, instead of feeling safe and content, Sherlock was something close to scared. He had no idea how to handle the morning after an emotional break down. 

John had just seen Sherlock at his absolute lowest point, something that nobody other than his brother had ever witnessed. Would John be scared away now? Would he treat Sherlock differently because of what he’d seen? Sherlock couldn't handle being seen as weak or insecure in John’s eyes and he hoped fervently that this would not be the case. Could he really blame him if John did see Sherlock in that light though? Sherlock had been a sobbing mess and couldn't even go back to doing his own job anymore. It was pathetic and it didn't take a genius to see that.

When John woke this morning, Sherlock didn't bother pretending to be asleep. If they were going to fall out over this, or if things were really going to be different, he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. 

John stretched and yawned beside Sherlock, and Sherlock rolled over and moved away slightly to look at him.

“Good morning” John smiled, seeming genuinely content “did you sleep okay?”

“yes, quite well” Sherlock replied, skeptical and anxious “and you?”

“slept great thanks” He smiled again, still not making any motions to move away from Sherlock “so breakfast then?” 

Sherlock nodded, more than a little surprised. The awkwardness from before was not present at all. In fact, the atmosphere around them felt particularly light and cheery. 

John chuckled a little bit “no need to look so scared Sherlock, it’s only breakfast and you should eat” 

With that John got up and moved to walk into the kitchen.

“I’ll make you some toast with that jam you like on it and tea, so come out when you’re ready” he yelled over his shoulder as he walked 

“John” Sherlock spoke his name before a sentence had actually formed in his mind.

John turned around at that “yeah?”

Sherlock said nothing. He didn't want to start the conversation about last night but how were they to continue if they didn't have it? How could he apologize for putting John through that (because he should apologize, shouldn't he?) How could he explain how much it mean that John hadn't left him?

After a minute or so had passed and Sherlock had still not spoken, John smiled. It was warm and genuine and held such clear affection that it left Sherlock a little breathless.

“don’t worry about it” John said before he turned back and continued his route to the kitchen.

That was it. Sherlock knew right then that he loved this man more than he had anyone or anything in his life before. Even more than the drugs at the height of his addiction. 

Here was John, willing to stay with him after Sherlock had hurt him for two years, argued with him about practically nothing and broke down completely in front of him. Then on top of all of that, John had practically read his mind and offered him comfort and reassurance when Sherlock couldn't find the words to ask for it himself. John knew that he couldn't talk about what had happened and understood that Sherlock just needed to move on. The most remarkable part was that in his quiet way, without even saying anything, John had reassured Sherlock that everything was okay and should he need to talk about it or should it happen again, John would be there. 

Sherlock sat in his bed staring unblinkingly at the route to the kitchen as his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. In a way it was a relief to finally have had this realization, but on the other hand, what on earth was he supposed to do now?

“breakfast is ready Sherlock” John called from the other room.

He supposed breakfast was as good a plan as any as far as next steps were concerned.

The air at breakfast was completely different to the day before. Sherlock and John conversed and laughed and it was as if everything awkward between them had never happened. Sherlock sat across from John watching how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, how he scanned the newspaper with a look of distaste when he got to the political section, how he leisurely sipped his tea and wondered how he could have missed the fact that he was in love with this man all along. 

Sherlock had just finished his toast when his phone buzzed signalling a text message. When he opened it up he saw that he had missed 3 messages from last night, all from Lestrade and all wondering if he was okay after what happened last night. The one from this morning was again inquiring about his well being but also asking when it was convenient to drop by the files regarding the other victims of the case. 

Sherlock typed out a quick message letting him know that he was fine, he simply had not been feeling well and to bring the files by at noon on his lunch break. 

“Lestrade will be over at noon today with pictures and files on the other victims in the case” Sherlock said putting his phone down.

“alright” John responded easily, but Sherlock could see the slight hesitation in his expression.

He didn't want to bring up last night but John was clearly worried what seeing these other girls would do to Sherlock’s well being. 

“it’ll be okay John” Sherlock smiled at him before taking a sip of his tea “they’re just pictures”

“thats good then” John smiled back, clearly relieved “now we better hope that Anderson didn't take the pictures or you’ll never get anything useful out of them”

Sherlock laughed, John always knew how to ease a tense situation and Sherlock added that fact to the growing list of things he loved about John.

They finished breakfast and Sherlock couldn't remember the last time he had felt so happy. There was a new case to deal with, John hadn't left him after last night and everything between John and Sherlock felt right again.

 

Lestrade came by at their arranged time looking hesitant as he stepped into the flat. It was starting to annoy Sherlock that people were walking on eggshells around him, but he couldn't very well say anything about it after his behaviour yesterday.

“Alright mate?” he heard Lestrade great John as he walked in to the flat. 

Sherlock had his back to the door tuning his violin but turned upon hearing the two walk in.

“Hey Sherlock” Lestrade smiled “how’re you feeling?”

“well, thank you” Sherlock replied “did you bring the files?” 

Lestrade motioned to the hand holding 4 folders, each with a different name on them.

“Got em right here” he walked over to sit on the couch and Sherlock joined him, spreading the files out on the table

He scanned each one of them and then laid out all the photos from each of the crime scenes. Choosing to look over those before really looking at any of the information listed about the victims. 

Each of the scenes looked different to the one he had encountered yesterday, but they were all just as graphic. Sherlock felt a little sick but it was nothing compared to yesterday. 

As he continued to look over the files, John came to sit on the arm of the couch. Sherlock knew that it was his way of offering support without being too obvious, just letting Sherlock know that things were okay and he was there. Sherlock added it to the list. 

After reviewing each of the files, he couldn't find any connection between the girls other than their age. They weren't similar in appearance, or from the same place or even tortured in the same way but Sherlock knew there must be some reason these were the people the killer had chosen.

What did remain consistent was the amount of time between each victim. They were all exactly a month apart, having happened on the first friday of each month. That meant they had one day to figure this out before he struck his next victim, if he remained as consistent as he had.

Eventually, Lestrade left to go back to work and it was just him and John left to look over the files.

“doesn’t seem to be anything that I can see connecting them” John said, running his hands through his hair.

Sherlock looked over and had to fight the urge to touch John’s hair as well. It was entirely unfair that John could touch it any time he wanted and Sherlock couldn’t. 

“Should I google them, see if I can find anything else on them?” John asked when he saw Sherlock looking at him

Sherlock hummed his affirmation before looking back at the papers on the table “might be a good idea”

He went back to looking at the photos and realized that there was something that was bothering him about the entire situation. The girl at the crime scene yesterday had had X’s on her shoulders and more on her legs. What was that? What significance could he possibly have had to take the time to carve them into her? They had clearly been done post-mortem so it wasn’t as if they were to cause her any more pain.

He closely examined each of the photos in front of him again and finally it clicked. There were tiny X’s on each of the girls, in different spots. The one’s on the victims in the pictures were barely visible but the ones on the girl that Sherlock had seen were quite large. The serial killer was getting bored then, this was a clue. 

Sherlock was still trying to figure out what the X’s could possibly mean when John chimed in. 

“Can’t find much that looks like it could be of use on any of them” He said still looking at the screen “the only thing all of them have in common is a profile on this dating site” 

That sparked Sherlock’s attention. He walked over to stand behind John, putting his hands on John’s shoulders and leaning forward to see. 

“how does it work?” he asked John

“well it matches you with people and you can look at their profile or message them” John started “Once you've looked at them, it gives you the option to match yourself with them by clicking this check mark or—”

Sherlock interrupted John before he could finish

“decline them by clicking the X” he exclaimed excitedly “John you’re brilliant”

He turned his face towards John to smile brightly at him; John always was the best conductor of light. What Sherlock didn't account for was their proximity because of how far forwards Sherlock had leaned to look at the screen. John had turned his face towards Sherlock as well at his excited proclamation and they were now so close that their noses were almost touching.

As they looked at each other, Sherlock’s smile dropped. They stayed like that for what seemed like ages, both looking into the other’s eyes not daring to move closer but not wanting to pull away. The tension in the air was palpable and it was only when Sherlock moved forward the slightest increment, that John cleared his throat and looked back that the laptop screen.

“So uhm” He started, his voice huskier than usual “why exactly am I brilliant?”

Sherlock tried to ignore the fact that he may have just been subtly rejected, even though he wasn't sure that he had had any intention to make a move at all. 

“because John” Sherlock exclaimed, regaining his excitement “X’s”

Sherlock took the opportunity to move away from John and walked over the to coffee table to retrieve the case pictures before bringing them back to the chair where John was sitting.

“Look at these marks” Sherlock said, pointing out each of the tiny marks on the different girls “what do those look like to you John?”

“X’s” John said, and Sherlock could practically hear the enlightenment in his voice “so you think he has some sort of vendetta against the girls that rejected him on this site?”

Sherlock smiled widely at him “exactly, now we need to figure out if there is a way to see who these girls have rejected recently”

John did some more clicking around before they ended up with all of the different girls’ profiles open in different tabs. 

“This website is brutal” John chuckled a little “you can see all of the people that have been rejected on their profiles”

“brilliant” Sherlock remarked, leaning over John again to take control on the laptop.

“glad i’m not in the teenage dating game” John was still going on “not sure I fancy having everyone see the people who’ve rejected me”

“please John, who would reject you” Sherlock said absently.

He was so focused on clicking the profiles to find the similarity in their rejections that he missed the look John gave him.

“Found him” Sherlock exclaimed standing up quickly.

“Lester Phillips” John read the name out loud “looks like a creepy bloke from his picture”

“never mind what he looks like John” Sherlock waved his hand as if to dismiss the notion “I need you to find out everything you can about this man online, I’ll call Lestrade and have him run a search with the force”

It took them all of 2 hours to track down information on the killer. The only thing they had yet to figure out was where he would strike again.

“John, I need you to look up the most recent girl he attempted to match with on that website” Sherlock said while going over the files for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Got it” John said after a few minutes “Vanessa Williams, she’s from Cardiff so not too far away but still not close to London” 

Sherlock thought it over for a bit “he must be travelling to get to these girls, which is why none of the victims are from the same place” 

“Right” John said “So when exactly did you say he was going to go after this girl?”

“If I’m correct, which is highly probable” Sherlock stated “then tomorrow”

“Shall I get us a hotel in Cardiff then?” John asked, fingers already typing 

“brilliantly deduced John” Sherlock returned, using just enough sarcasm to make John chuckle under his breath.

 

John had booked a room with only one bed. In hindsight, he was sure that this wasn't a conscious decision on his part, but it wasn't as if it mattered anyway, they were used to sharing. 

They had walked into the room and even though they had become accustomed to sharing a bed, the sight of only one bed in the room gave them both pause in the doorway.

John looked at Sherlock and Sherlock looked at the bed, they stood that way for what felt like ages, before Sherlock made a noncommittal sound and moved to put his bag down. John followed and tried to pretend the weird moment hadn't just happened and that Sherlock didn't think he was crazy for booking a room with a single bed. 

They had arrived in Cardiff in the late evening of that very same day. Sherlock wanted to scope out a few locations that could be the possible hostage site for the killer’s next victim so they decided to get a head start on all of it. This also gave them the opportunity to leave Baker Street, something they hadn't done since Sherlock had returned. As sick as the reason for their little trip was, John was looking forward to their twisted mini vacation. 

“So should we check out those spots now then or do you want to rest a little first?” John asked when they were more or less settled in 

“no time for rest John” Sherlock said waving his hand about “we’ll go as soon as i’ve narrowed down the possibilities” 

Sherlock was furiously typing on his laptop scoping out possible locations sites that the killer may use for his next victim. 

“Well while you do that” John started “I’ll look up some places for dinner afterwards yeah?”

All he got in response was a hum before he was back to being thoroughly ignored.

About an hour later, Sherlock had narrowed it down and they were on the streets of Cardiff sneaking about and abandoned factory. 

“This place is really big” John said walking behind Sherlock with his flashlight, his voice echoing slightly in the empty space “do you really think he’d use something this big for just one person?”

“It’s not the size that matters John” Sherlock said and John could almost hear him role his eyes when John let out a small chuckle at his choice of phrasing “it’s location, this is just the right distance away from anyone and anything to be remote and inconspicuous”

“so you think he’ll use this one as opposed to the other one?” John questioned, pushing open an old, creaky door

Sherlock just hummed in response. They looked around for another little while and were just about to leave and plan their impending stakeout for the next day when Sherlock stilled abruptly.

“do you hear that?” he whispered, eyes scanning the room quickly 

John stilled as well and listened as hard as he could. He had no idea how Sherlock had picked it up, but in the background, amongst the silence, the faintest of breaths could be heard. They were not alone; the killer was early. 

Before John even had time to respond to Sherlock, the other man was off running as fast as he could, following the shadowy figure who was now running to the back door in the abandoned building. 

“Shit” John swore under his breath and took off after Sherlock

By the time he reached the back door to the building Sherlock was already outside. He was about to break through the door to chase after him when he heard muffled screams coming from somewhere to his right.

John stopped, taking a moment to listen. When the screams came again, he abandoned his pursuit at the door and slowly walked to his right, shining his flashlight against the wall. 

After the bit of looking and following the muffled sounds, he came across another small door not unlike the cupboard under the stairs from Harry Potter. 

Taking a moment to consider the size of the door and the amount of force it would take to break it, John prepped himself before busting the door open. 

Inside was a girl. She was naked on the floor with her hands and feet tied together and duct tape on her mouth. 

John rushed inside and untied the girl, murmuring reassurances as he went.

“Are you alright?” he asked the girl “you’re safe now and i’m a doctor, will you be alright for one moment while i call the ambulance? I wont leave you”

The girl was crying too hard to respond but she nodded none the less.

John called emergency services and then set about looking after the girl, all the while hoping Sherlock hadn't been an idiot and gotten himself hurt while John wasn't there to protect him. 

The police and ambulance arrived 10 minutes later and John gave them as much information about the girl’s condition as he could before leaving to look for Sherlock. 

He stumbled out the door and looked in both directions, having absolutely no idea where he could have gone. On a whim, John chose to go to his right, running along the street and keeping an eye out for anyone else around him. 

He ran for about five minutes, consistently checking all of the side alley’s before he heard the sounds of what was almost definitely Sherlock in a confrontation. 

John picked up his speed significantly and sharply turned the corner into the alley where Sherlock and the killer were fighting. he was just about to jump into the fight and help Sherlock, when the detective landed one sharp blow to the other man’s face and the killer was knocked out cold.

John paused for a second, watching Sherlock right himself and take a few deep breaths, having apparently not yet noticed that John was there. In his moment of consideration, stood in the alley watching Sherlock, he felt something exceedingly warm spread through his chest.

John stood in the dark alley, watched his flatmate continue his deep breathing after just knocking out a criminal and realized that he was in love him with. Just as quickly, John realized how completely inappropriate a moment it was to make this realization, but none the less, there it was. 

Sherlock turned around at that exact moment, when John was sure the blatant shock of his realization was still clearly written on his face.

“oh hello john” He said nonchalantly looking down to fix a button on his coat that had come undone.

John didn't reply, still a little dumbfounded, and Sherlock looked up at him inquisitively in the absence of a response “what?”   
John cleared his throat “no nothing” he gestured with his hands “everything all sorted here then?”

“yes” Sherlock stated, casting one last glance to the man unconscious on the pavement before walking towards John “we’ll be needing the local police to dispose of him”

“already done, they’re back at the factory building” John said as Sherlock joined him at his side “the victim was in a closet under the stairs, she’s with the ambulance now”

“ah excellent” Sherlock smiled at him “so how about dinner then?”   
The detective didn't wait for a response (or for John) before he started walking away. John paused for a second to smile at how perfectly Sherlock the moment was, before running to catch up with his flatmate.


End file.
